Or I'll Slug You!
by Arcynic
Summary: There are many different explanations as to how one James Potter fell in love with one Lily Evans. This is just another one of them—with slugs. [oneshot]


It happens on a crisp autumn afternoon as multicolored leaves dance in the brisk wind. It is after classes and many children are about, frolicking merrily through the grounds, for at age ten very little is necessary in order to have a good time.

Such is the case for Lily Marie Evans, who sits under the shade of a great oak tree innocently reading a new book and generally quite taken with it. She has just gotten to a most fascinating part when something small and thick with slime all over it plops rather ungracefully onto her book. She blinks her large innocent green eyes, for at age ten one simply radiates innocence and naiveté, before looking up. In front of her stands a group of young boys and girls, adorned with silver and green ties, that looks quite menacingly at her. For, to alter the previous statement slightly, at age ten one simply radiates innocence and naiveté—unless one is a Slytherin.

"Pardon me, but it appears you have dropped one of your belongings onto my book." Lily says as she points to the object on said book.

"We didn't drop one of _our_ belongings," a boy with a head of abnormally greasy hair replies with a sneer, "We were simply returning one of _yours_, _mudblood_."

Lily blinks, quite sure that she did not ever own a pet slug and that this group thought it might be rather cruel to insinuate that she _would_ because she is in fact muggleborn. Because at age ten, slugs are a rather gruesome sight and though in hindsight it was nothing _very_ terrible, future wizards of evil must start _somewhere_, after all.

Unbeknownst to this group of adolescents, another group of four rather mischievous boys, who triumphantly named themselves the 'Marauders' after spending a good deal of time in the library, for at age ten one's vocabulary is rather limited and the letter 'M' is the thirteenth letter in the dictionary, is watching with passing interest. Though they know quite well that an innocent girl of their own house is getting bullied, none of them found they cared enough to stop it. For at age ten, boys tend to believe girls are rather icky.

The little boy with black hair and black eyes grins as he turns to his fellow mates, "Bet she cries."

The other little boy with black hair, but with hazel eyes hidden behind a pair of lopsided glasses, shrugs, "Course, she's a _girl_."

The third little boy, with sandy brown hair and grey eyes frowns but says nothing, instead returning quietly to his own slug free book. The fourth, a little rounder than the others, with chestnut brown hair and bright blue eyes looks back and forth between the other boys before catching sight of a pretty white butterfly and staring vacantly at it. For at age ten, one usually has a rather limited attention span in addition to limited vocabulary.

"All right then," Lily Marie says, lowering her gaze from the Slytherins to the slug as she speaks. The Slytherins gleefully watch the poor red head, hoping to catch a glimpse of bright green blurred by tears.

"Thank you for returning my belonging." Lily Marie speaks again, lifting her head to flash the green and silver clad group a wide, devilish grin before picking up the slug by her thumb and index fingers and promptly shoving the writhing body into her mouth. For at age ten, one can be the bravest and most absurd person in the world without any negative repercussions. The group in front of her gapes as she licks her fingers primly.

"Was there anything else?" They shake their heads, too utterly repulsed to do much else.

"Good, then leave," she pauses for good measure, "or I'll slug you!" Lily Marie says, looking horribly pleased at having made such a terrible pun. For at age ten, one is always easily amused by even the most atrociously simple jokes.

And thus the Slytherins slither away with their metaphorical tails between their legs, thoroughly disgusted and utterly disturbed, as Lily Marie returns, quite happily, to her book.

The little boy with chestnut hair and blue eyes shares the Slytherins' sentiment, suddenly having a profound urge to retch his lunch.

The little boy with sandy brown hair and grey eyes looks rather perturbed as well as he pats the first boy on the back.

The little boy with black hair and eyes seems genuinely impressed with this not so icky girl who has actually sent the Slytherins running faster than _he_ has yet to.

The little boy with glasses smiles widely, everything else forgotten as he stares at the girl with red hair and green eyes.

"I'm going to marry that girl one day." He announces, much to the fright of boy one, the concern of boy two, and the disgust of boy three, who is still sure that she is quite icky, nonetheless.

For ah, at age ten, love is as simple as slugs.

-

A/N: Well, I didn't start at two am this time. It was around three thirty. It was written in mostly past tense with the repetitive lines in present tense, but as that seemed awkward, I changed the entire story to present tense. It seems better this way. And it might be best not to ask how I came up with such an absurd story for my mind works in odd ways.

Making better progress with Bet than before (for anyone wondering, which is no one, but I digress) and it should be along sometime.

Review and be lovely…or I'll slug you!


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